Badgers

Search Me

One of the fun things about website stats is you can find out the search terms people used to find your blog.

Terms like:

  • Evil Dead - I get a ton of hits every day from this one , after I wrote this post.  I guess if you search Google images it’s the first to come up.  Yay me.  Princess Jenn = Evil Dead.  Who knew? Well, I suspect Bil did, because he talks about zombies an awful lot, but still.
  • spanking in the wwe - dude I could not even make this shit up
  • badger arm - how many pages did they have to wade through to find my site by searching that?  I mean, really?  Because I talk about badger arms constantly.  It’s a real passion of mine.
  • i love my bubby karen sept 2009 – Ummm…. yeah.  I got nothing
  • Heather Spohr - I mentioned her one time in one post in passing (it was all good Heather, I promise).  Note to self, put the names of famous bloggers in every post
  • do follow blogs on walk in tubs – I don’t even know what the fuck that means.  Could someone please translate from “I don’t know how to type Google search terms” to English?  That would be great.  Thanks.
  • Baby blood – this would be after the zombies hit my site. WTF??  Who the hell searches for baby blood?  What kind of sicko… OK, you know what, I don’t even want to know.
  • doctor fucking patients – I’m sorry, I think you’ve mistaken me for the other Princess Jenn (warning: NSFW)
  • my mother phucking pictures – there are certain things I don’t want to know about my mom.  This would be one of them
  • miss tard sleep badger – again – I’ve got nothing.  Totally speechless.  But what is with the goddamn badgers?
  • wwe “she bites” – My bark may be worse than my bite, but seriously I’m going to gnaw my arm off, feed it to a badger, while looking at bloody pictures of doctors phucking my mother if these searches don’t stop.

P.S.  I swear I’m not sleeping with anyone at Google.  They just love me for me.

Badgers

Children are wily creatures.  Oh, they may seem all cute and cuddly, but underneath it all they’re badgers. Rabid badgers.  Who among us has not been bitten at least once by a toddler? Yeah, I rest my case.  Badgers.  The whole lot of them.

badger 300x240 BadgersVista, I suspect is a vampiric badger (they’re the worst kind).  She prefers to sleep during the day and come out at night. Which is damn inconvenient, because despite my convictions otherwise during my goth teenage-angst years, I am not a vampire.  I like to sleep.  No, screw that.  I NEED to sleep. But this little vampiric badger of mine… oh she’s smart.  Very cunning that one.  She spends a whole month lulling us into a false sense of security.

I’m sure in addition to be a vampiric badger, she also possesses some sort of strange magic.  Magic that makes us forget things.  She’ll look at me with big blue eyes and tousled blonde hair that says “Sure I’ll sleep through the night mommy.  Just watch”  And so she does.  And I think “This isn’t so bad”.  Because, you see…magic.  I forgot that just the month before we spent night after sleepless night up with her.

And then I feel silly for calling the nice people at Family Support for Children with Disabilities (FSCD). I feel silly that the nice FSCD lady came all the way to our house. And I feel silly that she approved us for respite care so we could get a break. Because the magic makes me forget. And when she sent over the contracts for us to sign, I let them sit there. Because the magic was at work. And I thought ‘I’m sleeping through the night, and this isn’t that bad. And she’s doing so well. We don’t need respite care anymore’.

But then the evil rabid vampiric badger snarls and laughs at my foolishness. Laughs at my cockiness, thinking that I, a simple mother, could handle this alone. And the sleepless nights begin again. And the agitation and aggression returns. And the screaming. Oh the screaming and the howling. Because everyone needs to know that that badger is back in town.

Take heed and be warned. And don’t forget to make sure there are tranquilizer darts in the gun… because those badgers, they’ll eat you alive.

Find Me

TwitterRSS
FacebookEmail

I’m Connected